


Understanding

by wingsofthenight



Series: Devil May Cry Gen Week [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Or he's getting there at least, Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 22:43:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofthenight/pseuds/wingsofthenight
Summary: Sometimes, it's the person you least expect that understands your pain the most. The pain of losing an older brother and feeling you should have done more to change their fate brings that to the surface.





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> For Devil May Cry Gen Week, Day 1- Injury/Healing

Kyrie wasn’t too proud to admit that she squealed as she ran into someone, the hand holding the bouquet of flowers she had gathered immediately moving to protect them even as the man grabbed her to steady her.

“If Nero wouldn’t kill me for it, I’d comment about you being too distracted by my good looks to pay attention!”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the surprisingly welcome voice, her mood lifting for the briefest moment as she smiled up at the devil hunter that had helped save them all. “Dante! I didn’t expect you to be back until dinner.”

For the briefest of seconds a tired look crossed Dante’s face, so brief that even with her experience in reading people she wasn’t sure if her eyes were correct, but his normal, neutral yet cocky expression was back when he shrugged and replied, “Got tired of looking around at all the _interesting_ statues around. Especially considering how they all look too _regal_ to even sort of pass as Sparda.”

Kyrie couldn’t help her laughter. It was slightly strained, yes, but was that any surprise considering how her life had turned upside down in the last few months? At this point, learning how Dante’s mother had called Sparda the Legendary Dork Knight for a reason was quite possibly the _least_ shocking thing she’d learned in the last few months.

Far too quickly for her tastes, the brief levity she’d gained from his words was gone as she remembered just what she had set out to do. Judging by knowing yet sympathetic glance he gave the lilies in her hand, Dante at least suspected what she was planning.

“I’ll let you go, a nap sounds good anyway-“

“Would you mind accompanying me?” Kyrie blurted out, cutting him off. “It’s been four months since then. I would rather not be alone while I go pay my respects to- to my brother.”

No, her eyes were not mistaking the empathy- not just sympathy, but _empathy-_ written clearly on his face.

Nero had mentioned that Yamato used to belong to Dante’s brother, hadn’t he?

After but a moment, Dante had managed to recompose himself, a small yet bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Been awhile since I’ve been to a grave, but if you want I will.”

Kyrie wondered at that, but refused to let her thoughts pass idle curiosity. She refused to make assumptions about anyone without knowing their story. Too many people did that already, and she refused to add to the amount of people in the world that refused to seek out all of the information before judging someone. If she was blessed with children one day in the future, she would make sure they never became a person that would.

The walk to the graveyard was a silent one, but was also less awkward than she would have thought. Yes, Dante did seem to be slightly uncomfortable, but that only came from her practice at reading people, and she wasn’t even sure she was reading him right. The legendary son of Sparda was almost terrifyingly good at hiding his feelings, which worried her more than she could ever express.

It reminded her too much of Credo. Credo, who had pulled away from them more and more after her parents died. Credo, who she never managed to get through before everything.

Nero was not the only one to regret his actions in not being able to save their brother. If anything, he had the least to regret out of either of them.

Kyrie didn’t even notice she was kneeling in front of the (empty except for his sword- that had been the only thing left of him to bury and she almost wished his so called “Holiness” and that man who called himself a scientist was still there so she could make them pay) grave, eyes shut tightly in an attempt to not let the tears fall, until a warm hand covered her shoulder.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” came the soft voice of a man who did nothing but empathize with her. “Sometimes you just need to let it out even if it seems wrong.”

She let out a breath, shaking her head as she gently placed the white lilies she’d brought in front of the grave before tracing the name engraved on the stone. “I’ve done more than enough of that already. As much of the blame can be laid at my feet, I don’t have any right to shed any more of them.”

“What?” Disbelief from the man next to her. He obviously didn’t believe her. She didn’t like to talk about her failings, but…

“I should have said something,” she whispered, looking down at the lilies, carefully nudging one that had fallen out of place to rest with it’s siblings. “Ever since our parents died, he kept pulling away. He was old and respected enough that I never had to be fostered like other children when their parents were lost, and he was allowed to keep fostering Nero, but ever since then there had been a distance between us. If I had just tried harder to make him open up, maybe…”

“I had a twin brother.”

That got her to look up to see Dante blink in surprise, but he shook his head as if to clear it before resolutely yet hesitatingly continuing on.

“He was older than me. Sure, we were born like a little over a minute apart- mom said she half wished I had taken my time actually, according to her it wasn’t fun at all- but he was still my big brother, as much as we bickered about whether that should really count. He was the one that I looked up to most. Yeah, we bickered a lot, like when I wanted to spar but he wanted to read his poetry books because he was in a phase, but he was still my best friend. And then…”

Old pain written clearly on his face, Dante shook his head once again before moving on in a guarded voice, “We got separated after our parents died. I thought he was dead for ten years. And then when I found out he was alive…” he trailed off again, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to continue, “I should have stopped him. Should have figured out some way to save him. Kept him from falling, from everything that happened to him, but I didn’t. Doubt I’ll stop regretting that for the rest of my life.”

He sighed, the hand still on her shoulder comfortingly tightening. “The regret’s not going to go away. It’s like a scar that won’t fade. Believe me, I know. I really wasn’t in a good place for a while. But eventually the scar stops hurting quite as much. Gets easier to think of the good things and not just the pain and regret. Takes a while, but you’ll get there one day. Hopefully that one day comes sooner for you than it did me.”

Kyrie had so many questions that she had no idea where to start. His story about his brother rose more questions than it answered, but something told her that she should feel blessed to have gotten even this much from him. She wasn’t going to push him any farther, and she had no idea what else she could say to help take away some of his pain when her own wounds were still so fresh.

So, she didn’t say anything as she stood up and turned to him, letting her actions do more than her words ever could hope.

Dante only stiffened for the briefest of moments before his arms automatically returned her hug.

It wasn’t the hug of her father, where it felt like nothing would ever harm her.

It wasn’t the hug of her brother, one where it felt like he’d protect her at all costs.

Nor was it the hug of her lover, one full of comfort and love.

No, it wasn’t any of those. Maybe it was the hug of an uncle? Neither of her parents had any siblings so she had never known what it was like to have one. Somehow though, Uncle Dante seemed like the right title for him.

Regardless of what title was right, Kyrie, for the first time in months, felt no shame in her tears. Dante wasn’t judging her, nor was he trying to convince her that she had no reason to feel this way. She finally had something she hadn’t known she wanted.

She had someone who _understood._

**Author's Note:**

> So the prompt is followed more metaphorically than literally, but eh, it works. I'm just glad I finished it the right day x)
> 
> Seriously though, Dante and Kyrie are much more similar than you'd think. Both of them had older brothers that they looked up to, but who made terrible mistakes in the end. Credo at least saw the light and tried to make up for it, and even before 5 I'd say there were times Vergil did too, such as dropping his half of the amulet in 1 despite the pain it must have meant for him. This is something I've wanted to write for a long time actually, and I'm glad I'm finally able to find a way to get it out. Dante is Kyrie's uncle too, even regardless of her relationship with Nero. You don't have to be blood related to be family.


End file.
